


Cold Wind and Snapshots of Heaven

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Angst, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim meets a stranger and re-evaluates his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Wind and Snapshots of Heaven

## Cold Wind and Snapshots of Heaven

#### by OCONN

  
  
  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

July 14th 

Jim sat on the plane, curled against the wall as he stared out the small window. He watched the land grow smaller, watched the tree line break at the cliff's edge, and the coastline give way to deep blue ocean. As the plane turned toward Cascade, it flew over the small island. He could see the cove, with its narrow entrance and tiny, crescent shaped beach. 

Images flashed behind his burning eyes, images of laughter and splashing water, of gently lapping waves and sun-drenched skin. And later, those of brisk winds and wool sweaters, of bare feet in the cold waves and strong hands anchored in each other's back pockets. 

He looked down to the edge of the beach and caught a glimpse of the house. More pictures, snapshots of heaven, filled his mind: 

The early morning sun, filtering in through the wooden shades, falling on rumpled sheets and tangled legs, on interwoven arms and softly stirring strands of hair. The cool breeze lifting the dust in the air and the tiny sparkles moving in and out of his view as they danced above their exposed bodies. 

Another flash: a weather-beaten wooden deck chair; lean, denim encased legs propped on the railing, and his lover, nose buried in a book and one hand wrapped around the first cup of morning coffee. 

Jim moaned painfully, and ignoring the startled glance from the passenger seated next to him, he shifted back, and closed his eyes. His heart hurt, his eyes hurt, his throat hurt, and his ass hurt. But there it was: the good and bad of spending his vacation with a stranger...someone who possessed his very soul but was too far away to posses the rest of the him. 

December 16th 

A cold wind seemed to blow right through him as he ran across the garage to the door of the building. Upstairs, Jim sat in his hard chair and wrapped his freezing hands around a hot cup of coffee. He was sick of this, of all the rain and the cold wind and the sunless sky. He wanted to be far away from Cascade, on that beach or tucked inside that small house with that man. God, it seemed like years had passed, an eternity since he'd felt heaven. He glanced around the Bullpen, at what gave his life meaning: his friends and fellow detectives. He thought about his job. It meant so much to be doing what came naturally to him, to care for those nameless faces out there, to protect them. Sometimes he felt like an ancient warrior. 

But not today. Not lately. Not since his heart walked out of his chest and followed the stranger into that house, on that beach, on that island just beyond the rocky cliffs. 

An image came to his wandering mind: In that house, as they sat back to chest on the thick carpet, before a roaring fire with the storm raging outside. The firelight glowing on their skin and Jim watching, entranced by the flickering contrasts playing over the beautiful face as his lover laughed. 

And another: of a freighter passing on the horizon, it's image forever intertwined with the sensation of strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly. The wind blowing off the water heightened the feel of hard rock beneath his butt, of warmth against his back and stubble against his cheek. 

The wind there never seemed as cold as it did here. 

December 18th 

Jim stood in his home, looking around at what had always been his safe haven. Not anymore. Outside the rain fell steadily, blurring the Christmas lights decorating the lampposts and windows, while inside another storm raged. He was always cold now, could never seem to get warm. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace, but its heat couldn't warm him. 

He suddenly decided that he was very brave and ran upstairs. Reaching into his bottom drawer, he pulled out his warmest sweater. It had been long enough, he told himself. Six months; surely it would be safe now. Returning to the fire downstairs, he unfolded the thick wool and pulled it over his head. 

He was wrong. Held within the fibers were so many smells, connected with so many memories. They surrounded him, bombarded him, and overwhelmed him. Salt and sand, fresh air and hot coffee, musk and herbal shampoo, hot sex and soft love. Jim sank to his knees and gave in to the pain. 

Two hours later, after he'd cried and cursed life for being unfair, he came to a startlingly clear realization. 

Six more hours found him back on a plane, staring out the window waiting for the first glimpse of heaven. 

December 19th 

Jim stood on the wooden walk leading up to the house. Behind him he heard the waves of the ocean. They were calm today, once again barely breaking as they reached the sand. The cold wind was gone, leaving only a light breeze rustling his pants. In front of him, behind the weathered door, heaven awaited. Heaven was the sound of the beloved heartbeat, the warm, safe smell of love, and the feel of powerful hands on his body. 

He dropped his bag on the porch, fingered the pine and driftwood Christmas wreath, and knocked softly. Unconsciously, he'd closed his eyes and therefore didn't see the door open. But he did hear the soft gasp and feel the homecoming as he was gathered into those arms. 

"Oh god, Jim!" 

"Blair," he breathed out in soul cleansing relief. 

Later, after dinner and unpacking, they once again sat before the fire, gazing at Blair's warmly decorated tree. Jim mentally looked through his snapshots and compared the past to the present. They were each beautiful in their own way. Both were love and laughter and long, sweet kisses. Then was wonderful, yet tinged with grief. But Now was no more cold sadness. Only joy. Heaven. He closed the photo album in his memory and concentrated on the present. 

Jim tightened his arms around Blair briefly then moved to kneel in front of him. Taking the strong hands in his, Jim swallowed the lump lodged in his throat and looked into Blair's concerned eyes. 

"Blair?" he began quietly. "Do you believe in heaven?" 

"Yes Jim, I do." The reply was firm yet curious. Blair waited patiently as Jim struggled with what he wanted to say. 

After a few moments Jim nodded then looked away. His heart was troubled. He took a deep breath and said, "I can't go back, Blair." 

"No one said you have to," Blair responded carefully. 

"I don't?" Jim's hopeful gaze returned to Blair's face. He took in Blair's gentle smile and added it to his memory: the moment his wishes came true. 

"Jim, you're an adult. You can do what you feel you have to, as long as..." 

As Blair's words trailed off and the smile faltered, Jim panicked. Letting go of the warm hands, he sat back on his heels again. Cautiously he asked, "As long as what, Blair?" 

"Jim, I didn't ask you this, before, when you were going home. I didn't feel it was any of my business. But now, I really need to know where I stand. I need the truth, Jim." 

"Anything. I'll tell you anything you want to hear," Jim promised pleadingly. 

"Just the truth." 

Blair looked at him intently and Jim knew he was searching his eyes, looking for any signs of lies. Fortunately, when the question came, it was an easy one. 

"Is there anyone else, Jim? I mean, I couldn't take it if I found out six months from now that you're married with three kids and a dog. I can hide you from whatever is troubling you until you're ready to face it, but..." 

As Blair's words trailed off, Jim grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him gently. Jim's smile grew wide and he thought he was going to burst. 

"There's nothing to hide me from, Blair. No wife, kids, dogs or trouble. Only loneliness and emptiness." 

"Really?" 

"Really. I love you. And I want to stay here, with you." Jim leaned in and kissed his lover on the tip of his nose. He added a light kiss to each now closed eye and move to capture the full lips. "Please, Blair. I need to stay with you." 

"I think that can be arranged," Blair whispered against Jim's lips. "But only if you stay forever." 

Jim lips barely brushed Blair's as he murmured, "Forever, then." 

And they lived happily ever after...Forever. 

the end. 

* * *

End 

Cold Wind and Snapshots of Heaven by OCONN: j804gdt@sbcglobal.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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